Whooo Goes There
by Uncle Charlie
Summary: Napoleon and Illya meet a very unusual presence while camping one night. Written for the MFU-Scrapbook 2015 Halloween Challenge for Laurose8


Napoleon sat a bit closer to the fire and warmed his hands. The woods were cold, even though it was just October. The frost was so thick on the ground earlier in the morning that it crunched as they walked. It still made Napoleon wince every time he took a step. Winter was not far away.

"Are you okay?" Illya tossed back the rest of his vodka.

"Just cold."

"I know that camping isn't your favorite pastime. Thank you for obliging me." Illya poured more vodka into Napoleon's tin cup and then into his own.

"Not unless it involves a comfortable bed and a willing bedpartner. Instead I get a bed roll and a willful partner. Anyhow, thinking of all the times you've gone sailing with me and knowing how you love that, it seemed only fair. I wouldn't have minded a warmer weekend, though."

"Sadly, this time of the year, they only seem to come one way." Ilya smiled and paused in his actions as overhead, an owl hooted. Napoleon watched him count the number of hoots by nods of his head and then went back to his task of banking the fire for the night.

"Why did you count the hoots?" Napoleon stood, stretching his back. He took a sip of the vodka and let it warm him from within.

"There's a belief that the number of hoots mean certain things. One means impending death, two means success in the immediate future and three means a woman will soon marry into the family."

"How many—"

"Six. It means guests are arriving."

"I don't much like the sound of that."

Illya patted his weapon. "As long as I have my party favor close at hand. Even on vacation, I believe in being prepared." He finished his cup of alcohol and set it aside. "I've hit my limit."

"The bottle isn't empty."

"Yes, well, if we are planning on doing anything tomorrow, it needs to stay that way." Illya yawned. "I bet we sleep well tonight. Nothing will wake me up."

"Me, either, although that was a good hike in. You know, I haven't heard an owl in years. We used to have them on the farm. They were good at keeping the rodent population in check."

"Owls can be quite deadly. In Chinese, they use the word, _xiao,_ Chinese for owl, to describe someone or something particularly ferocious or brave."

"Unless you are their prey."

The owl hooted again, just once, and Illya tipped his head. "Death. It was said that an owl predicted the death of Julius Caesar, Augustus and Agrippa. Not a comforting thought out here."

"You seem to know a lot about owls."

"My fascinating friends, the gypsies."

"Hmm, that seems to be a one-stop shopping explanation for everything."

Illya shrugged his shoulders. "Do you know anything about them?"

"My first partner out of Survival School was Texan. He loved to tell me about the _lechuza_."

"Bless you."

"Funny guy. She was someone, usually an older woman and a witch, who had sold her soul to the devil and could take the form of an owl."

"Why would she want to do that?"

"Revenge, Partner. It's all about revenge. Usually a woman became a _lechuza_ to get revenge on someone who had hurt her in some way, an unfaithful husband, a town gossip, a careless lover, that sort of thing."

Illya laughed. "Of course, it's always about that, isn't it?"

"Sadly, the _lechuza_ was more of a boogey man… woman. She liked to scare people more than really hurt them, unless you really annoyed her in some way. They were usually incredibly horrible looking in their human form, sort of like harpies. Ian used to say, " _Las lechuzas, por regular, no son peligrosas._ " They are not dangerous… normally."

"Just what I needed to hear. I don't mind a playful spirit or two… as long as they aren't dangerous… normally. And on that note, I'm going to turn in."

The cry cut right through the bevy of scantily clad women Napoleon was entertaining in his dream and he sat straight up. For a moment, he was lost and a bit concerned about his restriction, then he remembered. Camping and sleeping bag.

He saw Illya's silhouette. His partner was also sitting up. "Did you hear that?"

"I heard something."

The cry came again, the wail of a newborn baby, and Illya shook his head. "What would a baby be doing out here?"

Goosebumps prickled the skin of Napoleon's arms and he caught Illya's hand as it reached for the zipper. "Don't."

"But, Napoleon."

"Illya, you said it yourself. Why would a baby be out here? We've been here all day and not heard anything. We know no one is camping nearby and a baby can't just up and wander a mile or so into the backwoods."

"Then what is it?"

"No idea. An animal?"

"None like I've heard…" There was another noise, the crack of a branch and Illya moved backward into a squat. He pulled his weapon as Napoleon was unholstering his own P-38.

Both men sat still, ears straining for any sound.

There was the rumble of distant thunder. Then, in a flurry of flapping wings and with a blood-cuddling scream, an owl attacked the tent, tearing at fabric with sharp claws. The thick canvas danced in response as the talons raked the tent again and again.

They dropped to the safety of the tent's floor and Napoleon aimed up. The Walther fired just once. There was another scream and as suddenly as the attack started, it was over.

"What was that all about?" Illya grappled until he was in a sitting position and examined the canvas. It was torn in spots.

"I've never heard of an owl attacking a tent before." Napoleon set his pistol aside and did his own exam. "Sure did a number on the tent. Must have gotten confused in the dark."

"An owl? They hunt at night. They don't make mistakes, not like this." The rain started and Illya groaned. "Just what we needed. What time is it?"

"Nearly five. It'll be light soon."

"We can't stay out here like this. Why don't we pack up and head back?"

"In the rain?"

"After the rain." There was a bright flash of lightning and just for a moment, Napoleon could swear he saw the shape of a woman projected against the canvas.

"Illya?"

"Tell me I didn't see that." The thunder drowned him out and there was another wailing cry from the baby.

Neither man moved, except to dodge drips of water. They finally settled in one side of the tent free from tears.

"If you want to sleep, I'll take the first watch."

"After that? I don't think so." There was another flash and the silhouette was closer, this time of an owl, just outside the tent. The baby cried again and two guns came up.

"We're armed," Illya shouted. "We will defend ourselves."

The lightning cracked again and the owl had drawn even closer. Napoleon clicked his weapon from regular bullets to the special sleep-inducing ones UNCLE preferred and fired.

The bird screamed, a horrible thing, and the thunder rumbled so loud it shook the ground.

Abruptly the rain stopped and after a few minutes of silence, Illya undid the zipper to the tent's flaps. Overhead, the clouds raced by, tinged with pink and orange of the approaching dawn.

"I don't know about you, but I've had as much camping as I care to have this week." Napoleon pulled on his boots and tied the laces.

"I'm of the same mind." Illya ducked back in and began to roll up his sleeping bag.

They both worked quickly and efficiently. Within a few minutes, the tent poles were pulled and the tent collapsed.

Illya shook his head as he examined the damage. "Well, this is gone."

"It could have been worse. At least we were on assignment when it happened."

"True. Illya folded the material as Napoleon started to collect their other equipment. Then he stopped. "Napoleon?"

There was an edge to his partner's voice that made Napoleon freeze. "Yes, Illya."

"You shot at that owl, did you not?"

"Yes, but it was a mercy bullet. If I winged it, it'll be out for a few hours. I just wanted to scare it into stopping."

"Winged. Funny you should use that word."

"Why is that?"

"Look."

Napoleon followed Illya's point and there was a naked woman lying on the ground. Even in sleep, her face was contorted into a mask of anger. In a near whisper, Napoleon said, "There are four ways of getting rid of a _lechuza:_ prayer, tying seven knots in a rope, hiring a _curandera_ …"

"A what?"

"A witch, or you can get rid of it by shooting it. You know, Partner, there's not a single thing here that we can't easily replace and the last thing I want is to be any near here when she comes to."

As a pair, they grabbed their backpacks and headed for the trail, both lost in their own thoughts and both casting an uneasy glance overheard every time an owl hooted.

To learn more about _lechuzas_ – check out these various websites:

.

watch?v=6jk-65vtREU

.


End file.
